


Broken Promises

by okaywhateverokayyes



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Apologies, Broken Promises, Deran's POV, Drugs, Family Fluff, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Suffering, inner turmoil, problematic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaywhateverokayyes/pseuds/okaywhateverokayyes
Summary: He wants to keep them. He just doesn't know how to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WAYYYYYYYYY before season 1 and most likely before Belize.

Craig’s looking at him a little too long. Deran tilts his head, gritting his jaw as  he mouths ‘ _what_ ’. Craig continues to look right at him. Doesn’t blink. He’s holding his stare, even as he brings the glass to his lips. He takes a sip, places the bottle onto the table and resumes the contact.

Deran’s about to ask again what his problem is when Smurf rips open the glass door. She rips the shades from off her head and throws them on the sofa, her bag soon follows. That gets Craig to deviate his attention to the noise.

Deran doesn’t feel that he’s out of the gate, yet.

“Boooooooooooooys.” Deran has to flinch when he hears the mockery in her voice. As if she was prepared to throw some jibes that were sure to be pull the rug from underneath their feet. Deran senses that Craig recognizes the tone as well-looks to his side and finds Craig gulping the rest of the drink down.

Deran’s throat suddenly feels dry.

And he’s not holding anything to drink.

He places the console beside him, rubbing at his knees before launching himself upwards, placing both his palms against the cushion to push himself up. Craig’s looking at him again but this time, it doesn’t feel as much as daggers as it does as if he’s conveying ‘well let’s get this shit done with’.

Deran’s quiet as he follows Craig into the kitchen.

He keeps a distance between them as he leans against the fridge.

Craig’s more daft as he settles on the stool under the island. He mutters a ‘what’ in Smurf’s direction before shoving strands of his hair behind his ears. He’s wearing a look that says ‘I’m bored. Stop yelling at us’ but at the same time, as he arches his back, removes his hand from off of the island and wavers his eyes from off Smurf-he’s within her limits.

She’s got him.

And they are both aware of that.

Smurf’s raking through the shelves, her hands grabbing at whatever she needs. A pot. Some other shit that Deran doesn’t care to notice. She settles them beside the sink, stops and then turns on the faucet, running her hands friskly under the water.

She kneads her fingers through each other, rinsing her nails in a manner that seemed like no matter how much she rinsed, it would never be clean enough. But she does, anyway. Craig and Deran both watch as she elbows the faucet off, bends down as she grabs a rack of tissues before settling them on the counter.

She doesn’t even go to say anything.

And neither of them go on to ask her.

Deran rubs at his shoulders. He feels the bandage ripping from underneath his shirt, the blood soaking his cloth, but it’s not wet enough he observes. He could manage. Could change later. Could get stitches later, if he had to. He eyes at the desk beyond the foyer, searches for a stapler.

Photo Frame. Pens. Paper.

“Where’s Baz?” Her voice cuts through his vision. He diverts his eyes to settle them on Smurf.

She has her apron on. He notices that she had already placed some of the stuff she brought out, into the pot. She continues to grab at the jars that she set aside, flaking the contents in. She pauses, purses her lips, but goes to dash a little more.

“ _Boys_.” She stretches the consonants as she repeats the word, “Where is your brother?”

Deran turns to look Craig. Craig does the same.

“Are you gonna both sit and stand there looking stupid?” Her voice raises, “I asked you a simple question, baby.” But just as quick, she resumes that voice-the one that’s typical-as if she’s recomposing herself. As if she knew that her tone had shifted and nothing would come out of it if she had. It wasn’t because she never uses that tone-

Deran closes his hand into a fist. Because _fuck_. He doesn’t know. She’s standing there, going back to whatever she’s doing and Deran has to recognize the way she would speak, the way in which she would move, the way in which she asked anything from them because he had to be at least two steps ahead of her.

He had to.

He needs to.

She’s splitting their costs in three days. He needs his cut. He needs that 3 grand to pay rent. He remembers when he tells Adrian that he would take care of this month’s fee. He remembers the way Adrian shrugged-the way in which he didn’t even respond-

_-to the wind speed. He shoves his hands into the water, places his legs tightly pressed against his each other, using the frisk of his fingers to motion in-out-in and out of the water, as he paddles up and over the slight drift._

_Adrian’s already ahead of him. He’s faster than Deran and Deran’s aware of that. He watches Adrian settle on his board, kicking his feet in the water, cupping some water in his hands as he splashes them against his face._

_Deran musters up some energy as he paddles his way to him. His shoulders are starting to burn, but he bites down his lip because there was no way he was going to let Adrian know that. Adrian points at the offshore, rakes his hand through his hair as he yells, “We’re 2 minutes out. Swerve to the outer rim and then push forth to get a clean cut.”_

_He's talking about something he’d learn in the past month._

_He had gone to another tournament. He’s gone to a lot in the past month. Adrian tells him it’s for the money but when he hears him talking about fine-tuning the position of the peak, or paddling closed fingers, barrel ridding or long-board tricks-Deran knows its more than that._

_He’s having fun._

_And since he’s as good as he is, he’s getting the cash._

_Adrian’s smirking as Deran drifts towards him, letting the current swerve him closer to his board. Deran’s wipes at his suit as he shrugs at him._

_“What”._

_Adrian shakes his head. His smirk disappears. There’s just a thin line etched into his forehead, probably because of the many times he knows that Adrian doesn’t know how to SPF himself. He notices the way his freckles reached towards his cheeks but disappeared into the flesh. He notices the way Adrian’s lips thinned._

_Deran’s not looking at him as he asks, “What, man?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_Deran nods._

_They both watch for the next wave. But Deran glances at Adrian, knows that he’s doing much more. He’s putting into practice what he’s learned. He’s probably looking for the breaking wave, the take-off time, flexing his foot underneath the water-_

_Always running over things ten times out._

_Unlike him._

_He’s just doing what he’s always known. He knows to bend his knees and avoid going head first._

_“Word of advice?”_

_Deran runs his hand through the current._

_“Keep a low center, yeah? You’ll gain speed.”_

_Deran’s silent._

_He cusps some water in his hands before splashing against his neck. Feels the warmth sizzle out as the water hits his flesh._

_“Calling me slow?” He raised his brow._

_Adrian’s looking right back at him._

_He has to grip onto his board a little bit tighter when he feels the urge to exhale with more urgency that needed._

_Deran has to look away just as quick. Because it was-_

Like he didn’t believe him.

As if Adrian was gonna figure out how to pay himself.

As if Deran’s words didn’t carry weight.

Deran blinks a couple of times, coughs into his hand.

He needs the money.

He’s gonna pay the rent.

“No clue.”

Smurf’s lips etch upwards, “Baby, you got to get a clue.” She’s not looking at him as she says, the smile seeping into her every word.

He grits his jaw as he slowly nods.

He knows she’s not looking but somehow, she always is.

Craig’s irritated. His nostrils flare, has his fisted hands on his lap and Deran has to motion with his eyes to tell him _calm the fuck down_.

He knows what’s bothering Craig, it dawns on him the moment Smurf smiles.

That whatever’s about to come in the next ten minutes, neither of them would be happy with.

Deran slides away from the fridge when Smurf walks in his direction. He crosses his hands across his chest, pressing his fingers into his arms. He looks away when she grabs for the milk carton, doesn’t turn around until she’s back behind the counter.

It’s brief, but she lets out a small chuckle.

And then she disappears into the hallway.

Deran lets out a breath he doesn’t even realize that he’s holding.

Craig’s growling at the same time that Deran exhales.

“ _Fucking_ Christ…” and Deran’s aware of what’s to come.

“If she’s coming for my share man,” Craig barks, but even then, his voice is low as he does, “I’m gonna kill Baz.”

Deran closes his eyes he slams his head against the wall. _Well, shit_.

The sentiment was somewhat the same. Not really. It wasn’t like he should know where the fuck Baz was. He wasn’t his keeper. Or Smurf. But he curses slightly under his breath because _of course he should know where Baz is_.

Especially this week.

“I need the money, man.” Craig continues.

Deran hears the hesitancy in his voices. The way Craig scratches at his neck when he rubs his hand on the counter. The way Craig would sniff quietly but wipe his nose with his elbow. The way Craig would waver his eyes all over the room.

 _Fuck_.

“How much do you owe?” Deran asks.

“What?”

Deran pushes himself off of the wall as he walks to Craig, “How. Much.”

Craig blinks.

Deran notices the drops of sweat near his forehead.

The way his face turns a different red.

 _Fuck_.

Deran rubs at his eye as he looks at his feet.

He feels his throat get drier as he weighs his options.

“Two grand.”

Deran whips his head up.

“What the fuck are you-!”

Craig waves his hand in front of him, shaking his head furiously as he replies with, “ _Dude_. I need to pay him back or-“

Deran barks as he walks away from Craig. Doesn’t go far. Places his hand against the pool door, pressing his forehead against the glass. He closes his eyes as he feels the drumming in his ears change into buzzing that throbbed. Deran presses his fingers into his flesh as he lets out a sigh.

He starts to count backwards.

One. Inhale. Two. Exhale. Three. Inhale.

He does so until he drumming starts to go away.

He feels Craig’s daggers piercing into his back so he’s quick as he pushes away from the glass door. He places his hands on his waist as he kneads his fingers together.

“Okay.” Deran nods, feels the throb start to worsen, “Yeah. I’ll-“ and he doesn’t finish. He watches as Craig mumbles ‘thank fucking god’ before slamming his head against the slab. He has his hand under so the impact isn’t as forceful.

Deran feels his shoulders sag as he lets out another exhale.

His throat is dry to the point where has a hard time letting out another exhale.

He has to bite down on his tongue to stop the whimper that wants to escape his lips.

He has to slam his hand against his forehead when he starts to see Adrian blur his vision.

Because,  _shit_ , he wanted to keep his promise. He just didn't know how.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://okaywhateverokayyes.tumblr.com/


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